


Two of a Kind

by Green_Eyed_Dragon_Fanfiction



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dark Elf reader, F/M, thor ragnarok - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-04-07 08:04:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14076519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_Eyed_Dragon_Fanfiction/pseuds/Green_Eyed_Dragon_Fanfiction
Summary: After being left to die all those years ago in the final battle against the Asgardians, you abandon your people’s decaying world. You make it out alive by the skin of your teeth, set adrift in the cosmos, lost to the stars. Of course, it’s only a matter of time until you make your way to Sakaar, collection point for all lost and unloved things. Here, in this wasteland, you made your new home… until a couple of Asgardians show up and ruin it all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This series won’t be very long as it’s largely only during the events of Thor: Ragnarok (although it’s a few weeks before Thor actually gets spit out on Sakaar).  
> Warnings: Extraterrestrial slavery

[Originally posted by neomadarkelf](https://tmblr.co/ZMkNRo1HTGztg)

When you crash landed on Sakaar all those years ago in your barely-functioning ship, you’d been near death from battle wounds and starvation. It was just as disgusting as it was now, but back then the only thing you had for comparison were war-torn battlefields and Svartalfheim, you’d nearly hacked your lungs out at the rancid smell permeating the air. The only thing that kept you from doing so was the mask on your face and the fact that your stomach was so empty it was nearly eating itself.

Before you’d had a chance to collect yourself, a ship approached your crash site. How they’d manage to spot you amidst the mountains of smoking junk was beyond you, but you stood and steeled yourself for whatever was to come. None of the races of the universe liked your people and you weren’t expecting any different from these strangers, no matter what realm they hailed from. 

The hulking, awkward block of a ship thudded to the ground inelegantly barely fifty feet away and you glared at it through the eye spots of your mask, eyeing the large guns on the front warily. The door near the bottom slid open in a metallic _whoosh_ and your gaze flicked to the small band that traipsed through the doorway, armed to the teeth. Even though you couldn’t see their faces, it was clear from one glance they weren’t friendly. You’d been around masked people enough to read body language in an instant. 

One of the men in the front stepped forward and tugged his mask aside. 

Not Asgardian. 

Not Dark Elf. 

“Are you a fighter or are you-”

“Where is the leader of your group?” you asked tersely, cutting across what was likely a well-rehearsed interaction. You had no patience for their games. 

Laughter spread like a wave through the group, but you didn’t rise to the bait. The biggest one with the most ornate clothing stepped forward, answering your question for you. “We asked you a question, little girl. Are you a fight-”

His words were cut off abruptly by the blade lodged in his throat. He fell to the ground, hands clutching uselessly at the jagged blood-soaked dagger in his last moments. The rest of the band stared at their leader in shock, all of them processing this sudden turn of events when you spoke. “You work for me, now.” 

They turned back to you and you could just barely make out the murderous looks hidden behind their masks. 

“Like hell we will, you elf bitch!” One of them yelled, stalking forward dangerously, followed by a small handful of them that were either too stupid or too loyal to realize the position they were in. 

Well, good. At least they made thinning out the herd easier for you. 

Before they had a chance to pull their guns and other weapons on you, you pulled out a black hole grenade- one of two you had left- and tossed it at their group, watching detachedly as they were pulled in on themselves again and again until not even a speck of their blood remained. Their screams echoed in the trash-pile ravine, a hideous cacophony that grated on your ears. 

“Anyone else?” you asked in challenge, looking at the ragtag group of ruffians before you. They weren’t much, but they didn’t have to be. You’d build an empire from this humble beginning. They all shook their heads hurriedly and you smiled behind your mask, the feeling foreign. “Good.” You stared at them a moment longer, crossing your arms across your chest. “This is your first and last chance. If you leave now I will not stop you or kill you. Disloyalty will not be tolerated. Failure is not an option. Inability to follow my directions will result in your immediate and extremely prejudiced beheading…”

A few of them shifted nervously, eyeing any possible escape route, but their attention snapped back to you when you started speaking again. “However, those who follow me will share in my glory. My wealth. This wasteland of a world… I will take every piece of it I can. I will build it into something great. My name will be revered. I will drive out those who seek to thwart me, no matter who they may be. Follow me… and you will not want again. You will live like kings, each and every one of you… What say you?” you asked, screaming at the end. 

The answer was immediate and enthusiastic. They raised their weapons in the air, all yelling out an affirmative that had you grinning beneath your mask. 

“Let us begin, then.”

* * *

**Thousands of Years Later (Non-Sakaaran Time)**

“Hey, Boss?” 

You glanced up from your holo screen, giving your second-in-command, Halu, a flat stare that he couldn’t see but seemed to sense. “What?” you grumbled.

He didn’t flinch, as he was too used to your tone and mood by now. “We got a strange one. Didn’t know what to do-”

You sighed, set your holo down, and leaned your head against the back of your chair. “Did he pass the tests?” 

Halu gulped and nodded, recognizing he was wearing your patience thin. “Yes, but-”

“Then why are you bothering me, Halu? You know we sell them if they’re capable of algebra and can solve a riddle. That’s the rule. It’s worked well for us until now. Is _it_ not strong? Is it ugly?” you asked, crossing your arms grumpily. 

Halu rubbed his neck in an obvious show of discomfort. He was putting his foot in his mouth but you could tell he wasn’t done yet. 

“Spit it out, Halu. I don’t have all day. Grandmaster invited me to the fight later today.” 

Halu sighed and finally relented, tugging his mask off to reveal his heavily pierced face. The black of his eyes was on full display, his purple irises ethereal by comparison. “He says he’s… he’s from Asgard, ma’am.” 

You groaned. “Not another one… 142 is enough to deal with. I don’t need another one mucking up my operations.” 

“He insisted he talk to you, ma’am,” Halu said apologetically, not looking everywhere but at your face (well, your mask). 

“Why didn’t you just shove a dirty linen in his mouth, then?” you asked viciously, already climbing smoothly out of your chair and towards the elevator. Halu sputtered out a few half-baked apologies and trailed after you nervously, standing as far away from you as he could in the elevator. 

“He was… quite persistent and persuasive.”

You side-eyed Halu, trying to get a read on his thoughts. “You think it’ll be more useful to keep him than sell him.”

Halu glanced at you guiltily and you knew by the look in his eyes you’d guessed correctly. 

“You know we can’t take on any more scrappers right now, Halu. My reach is getting a little too large for the Grandmaster’s liking. I don’t fancy placing myself on that man’s shit list. Not yet, at least.” 

Halu opened his mouth to no doubt try and talk you into keeping the new prisoner but the door opened to the bottom level of your compound: the cell blocks. As you walked you idly wondered how this Asgardian had managed to win the ear of your most trusted lieutenant. Halu had been with you since the beginning, one of the few races that lived as long as you did. He was the closest thing you had to a friend and confidant… even though you’d tried to kill each other a handful of times. But hey, what was companionship without a good stabbing every hundred years or so?

You walked past the cells, ignoring the pleading, yelling, screeching, and begging from the people and creatures inside. 

“Last one on the right…” Halu muttered meekly, not eager to invoke your wrath. 

You scoffed. It was a private cell, of course. One sometimes used for interrogation or for specimens you thought the Grandmaster would like very much. 

You placed your hand on the pad next to the door and it scanned your palm before clicking open. You shoved the stiff door open with your shoulder, making a mental note to have someone perform maintenance on it later.

You froze when you saw the man waiting for you in the energy cage, not quite believing your eyes. 

[Originally posted by lokihiddleston](https://tmblr.co/ZOWZmx2UqaiVG)

You stared at him for a beat too long, but he seemed to be just as surprised to see you as you did him.

You turned to Halu, glaring at him behind your mask. “I thought you said he was from Asgard,” you hissed. 

Halu’s shoulders curved in on themselves in a failed attempt to make himself look smaller. “That’s what he said, ma’am.” 

You turned back to the man in the cell, eyeing him with disbelief. He was no Asgardian, he was-

You paused, squinting hard at him. Yes, just there… he _was_ from Asgard, though he was not born there.

“Leave us, Halu,” you said, not taking your eyes off the odd specimen before you.

Halu didn’t say anything, but you knew he was gone when the door clanged shut, instantly cutting off the cries and screams from outside, plunging the room into sudden silence. 

You stalked forward slowly, head tilted as you tried to piece together the puzzle in front of you. For his part, he seemed to be trying to figure you out, too. 

“How odd… you’re of Frost Giant blood, but you look like and have the aura of an Asgardian…” you murmured. 

He went stock still, shock plain as day on his face before he managed to cover it up. “And you’re all supposed to be dead, Dark Elf,” he said, surveying you with a nearly feral smile. 

It was your turn to be shocked, though he couldn’t see it on your face. “What do you mean?” you asked, tone carefully neutral.

He raised a single dark eyebrow at you. “You mean you don’t know? I find that hard to believe,” he said, turning to pace back and forth slowly. It was the behavior of a caged animal, but you had the sudden feeling that you were the one being hunted. 

You crossed your arms. “Speak. I have no time for your games.”

He gave you a secret smile as though you’d just told him a joke and you furrowed your brow at the odd reaction. After a moment he sobered and stop pacing, staring at you with interest. “Your people were wiped out a few years ago by Thor, Prince of Asgard.”

You burst out laughing and he stared at you in confusion. Whatever reaction he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. “Good riddance. I gave up on those fools when they left us to die all those years ago. I’ve not been Dark Elf in anything but blood in millennia.” You paused to let your laughter die down. “Perhaps you understand of a bit of that…?” you tilted the question up at the end and gestured to him, probing for a name. Intelligent life forms didn’t generally like it when you called them “thing.”

He stared at you for a moment, considering, before he spoke. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he said, grin as wicked as sin.

You laughed again, surprised at his manner. He was calculating and the look in his eyes was all too familiar. “Scrapper 23,” you said with a smirk. You knew that name wasn’t the one he was looking for. 

You were right. He frowned. “Nice to meet you, Lady 23. My name is Loki.” 

You rolled your eyes and waved a hand at the “Lady” part. “That’s ma’am to you. Do you have a last name, Loki?” you asked, already knowing he wouldn’t give you an answer without more give and take. 

“Do you have a real name?” he asked playfully, hands clasped behind his back. 

You tilted your head and eyed him for a moment, grin playing at the corners of your lips. You hadn’t been this entertained in years. He was a mystery, one you were eager to unravel. 

“(Y/N),” you said finally. Nearly no one on this trash planet knew that and it almost felt foreign on your tongue. 

“(Y/N)… (Y/N)…” He seemed to almost taste it as he spoke, grin working its way onto his pretty lips. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and when he realized you weren’t about to give him a reaction, he let out a single huff of laughter. “Laufeyson.” 

Your eyes widened a bit at that. “Now that _is_ a name I know. The great Laufey let one of his spawn be taken by Asgardians? That doesn’t sound right to me.” 

Loki’s face hardened and it was immediately clear that you’d dredged up a sore topic. “Doesn’t matter. He’s dead now.”

You raised and eyebrow and walked over to one of the walls, leaning against it easily. To your surprise he mirrored your movements on the other side of the energy field. “What of the other Frost Giants? Did this Thor you speak of kill all of them, too?” you asked, wondering at his odd reaction.

Loki shook his head. “After the death of Laufey, the Frost Giants had no leader and lost the will to fight. Many of them still remain, though the Nine Realms have fallen to discord as of late…”

You raised an eyebrow at his tone. “You sound as though you know of that first-hand.”

His grey eyes flicked to you, cold and calculating as ever. “I doubt you have me in this cage to talk about the news,” he said, gesturing to the pulsing translucent yellow energy barriers. 

You shrugged. “Just trying to decide if I should let my men eat you or if I should sell you to the highest bidder.” 

Apparently he’d figured out a bit about his possible fates because he didn’t so much as flinch at your words. “I don’t think either of those are your wisest course of action,” he said, voice smooth as silk. 

You smirked behind your mask and waved him on. “Let’s hear the sales pitch, then.” 

He looked annoyed for a moment, but quickly pushed it aside. “Selling me would be a waste and let’s not lie to each other, you have no intention of eating me. I passed the tests your scrappers gave me with ease. I can make you much more money than a simple one-time transaction with the Grandmaster would. You have good people, no doubt about it, but no one at my caliber. No one with my skills.”

“And what skills are those?” you asked, bored. You’d heard this speech a million times and each time it ended with the prisoner being sent off to Grandmaster with a bow and a credit line for payment. 

“My skills with a blade, technology, leading troops, and-”

“Magic,” came a voice next to your ear, startling you badly enough to jump. You turned, surprised to find a clone of Loki standing beside you, wearing a smirk that matched the original’s. It vanished a second later and you turned back to Loki, glare unseen. 

“Nice party trick,” you muttered, just a hint of bitterness in your voice.

He laughed. “That ‘party trick,’ as you so eloquently put it, has fooled some of the greatest minds of the Nine Realms time and time again. The trick is simple; it is how one uses it that matters.” 

You shrugged playfully. “Dunno, kinda feel like selling you and getting it over with. You seem like the Grandmaster’s type. Rare. Unique… young but not too young.” 

Loki frowned. “I’m over a thousand years old…”

You shrugged. “Like I said; young.”

Loki sighed, growing tired of your battle of words. “You’d be making a mistake.” 

You simply picked at your fingernails. “I could always just eat you, if you’d prefer,” you said, staring up from your hands to look at him.

The grin on his face was sinful. “I might not mind if it was you.”

You paused for a moment before laughing. “If you’re trying to make a case for me keeping you, you’re doing a piss poor job. The Grandmaster would love you.”

Loki’s hands clenched and unclenched at his sides in frustration. “Just give me a chance. I’ll do anything.” 

You regarded him, smile clear in your voice when you spoke, “Anything?” 

His eyes darkened a little as he nodded and your traitor heart had the audacity to pick up pace at the sight. “Anything.”

You walked forward slowly. Deliberately. He tried to keep himself from smiling victoriously, but failed by and large. Your hand hovered over the controls to his cage and, though you pretended to be looking at them, you were in actuality staring at Loki, studying his face with amusement. He’d thought he’d won already. It was cute.

You moved your hand away and faced him, holding back a laugh at his carefully neutral expression. “Do you want to know how that would have gone?” 

He smiled innocently. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

You rolled your eyes. “It would have gone something like this: I let you out, you pretend to be loyal to me, then you betray me the moment you get the chance to make a clean getaway… or flat out kill me.” 

His confused smile was all you needed to know you’d hit the nail right on the head. “I would never do such a terrible thing to such a lovely woman.”

You scoffed. “You don’t even know what I look like.”

Loki’s smile was almost saucy. “Call it a hunch.”

You laughed as you pressed the button to open the cage. He eyed you with distrust, clearly caught off guard by your actions. “I thought you didn’t trust me.”

You smiled. “Oh, I don’t. But I have an business proposal for you and I think you’re just the right kind of twisted for it.”

He stepped pointedly out of the cage’s radius and crossed his arms, turning on the balls of his feet to stare questioningly at you. “I’m listening.”

* * *

By the time you’d finished pitching your case, Loki had tried to kill you three times. You were surprised the number wasn’t higher, but you had to admit he really put his back into each individual attempt.

He was sitting on the other side of the room, glaring at you as he rubbed his ass. You may or may not have kicked him there hard at one point during your fights. It served him right… it was such a big target. 

“So? What say you?” you asked nonchalantly from your spot on the hard floor, like you didn’t have your hand on a gun. 

“My options are being eaten, being sold, or working a job for you… what do you think I’ll choose?” he asked sarcastically, glaring at you. 

You shrugged. “Depends on how much of a masochist you are.” 

He rolled his eyes. “I’m beginning to think working with you would be the most painful option of the three.” 

You grinned at this. “I never said it wasn’t,” you said playfully, earning a short breathy laugh from him. 

He stared at you a moment more. “So… you want me to help you take down the Grandmaster? The man who’s been alive for millions of years and has this planet under his thumb?”

You threw your hands up lackadaisically. “It sounds _less_ insane when you put it like that.” 

Loki groaned. “That fact alone is upsetting.” 

You shrugged and stared at him expectantly. 

He was silent for a minute or two more. “And what do I get out of this?” 

“Besides being alive and not fixed with a control chip?” you asked smugly. Loki sighed and nodded. “Well, after the Grandmaster is out of the way, you’ll be a free man. You can go on your merry way… or try to take Sakaar from me,” you said, grinning devilishly under your mask. It might be fun to have a _real_ rival. 142 might be able to match you on a physical level, but she was content to drink her life away and blend in with the crowd. This man… Loki… he might be a worthy adversary. He seemed to think about your words for a moment, though you had no doubt he’d already made his mind up. He just liked to see if he could make you squirm, but you’d been around too long to fall for his tricks. “I should warn you, though, if you try to double cross me during our business transaction I’ll be forced to kill you.” 

He glared at you and you couldn’t help but smile. Not spineless, it seemed. “I don’t take kindly to threats,” he said evenly, though his eyes burned with anger. 

“Not a threat, just a fact… shouldn’t be a problem so long as you uphold your end of the deal.” 

His jaw worked as he ground his teeth together, biting back an angry retort. “I agree to your terms.”

You started to get up from your spot on the ground. “Great, then we should-”

“On one condition.”

You slumped back down and stared at him disbelievingly. “You’re not in a position to make demands.” 

“You could always wait another thousand years for someone with my skills to come along,” he said, grinning smugly at you. 

You wanted to wipe that stupid smile off his lips. 

With your lips.

_Wait, what?_

You chased those thoughts from your mind. “Whatever. What do you want?” you asked, annoyed at both him and yourself.

“I want to see your face. No mask,” he said, staring at you with surprising seriousness. 

You scoffed. “Forget it. I don’t take my mask off in front of anyone. Especially not Asgardian Frost Giants I just met.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “And I don’t do business with people who won’t even show their face. How do I even know you are who you say you are?” 

You glared. “What, the pointy ears aren’t proof enough for you?” you asked, pointing helpfully to them. 

“Could be fakes,” he said dismissively. 

“This is stupid,” you spat.

“Then go back to your tower and wait for a better opportunity. It won’t come,” he said, sounding almost bored. 

You glared at him for a moment, anger rising deep within you. This man was absolutely infuriating. Maybe you shouldn’t work with him after all… but you’d been here for too long, stifled under the thumb of the Grandmaster. 

Biting back a torrent of curses you stood and went to the door. Thinking he’d been denied, Loki let out a disappointed sigh and leaned back against the cold metal wall, a noise of surprise leaving his lips when you lowered the lights to almost nothing. 

“Can you still see?” you asked as evenly as you could. 

“Yes?” Loki asked, suddenly unsure. “Is there a reason for the… mood lighting?” 

“I’m a Dark Elf,” you said by way of explanation, turning back to walk over to him.

There was a pause. “Ah. The light.”

“It’s very unpleasant,” you said, grimacing. 

“Is that why you wear the mask? To block out the light?” he asked, eyes taking a split second longer to find you than they had before. 

“Yes. And so my crew can’t read my face. Eternal poker face is quite useful.”

“I can imagine,” he said, dryly amused.

You stopped a few feet in front of him and he blinked at you a few times, eyes finally adjusting to the low light. You took a deep breath. Taking your mask off outside of your personal quarters felt so wrong. Your hands rose slowly to the clasps at the base of your skull and crown of your head, undoing them with practiced ease. You pulled it off hesitantly, wincing as the light hit your eyes. You blinked a few times, big eyes attempting in vain to adjust to the “high” levels of light. Your people’s eyes just weren’t made for the light. Loki came into focus after a moment, though it was hard to stare at him for more than a second or two at a time. 

“Are you satisfied?” you asked tersely, itching to put your mask back on. 

“Yes.” There was something in his voice you couldn’t quite place and you slipped your mask back on as quickly as you could without looking weak. When you looked back at Loki his face was as impassive as ever and you began to think you’d just imagined the odd tone in his voice. 

“Do we have a deal?” you asked, looking him up and down quickly. 

He stuck his hand out and you quickly checked for any concealed weapons. “We have a deal.”

Seeing no sign of deception you stuck your hand out and shook his hand firmly. You dropped his hand after only a moment, ignoring the tingling in your palm. The combination of Frost Giant blood and Asgardian magic was potent. You were sure that’s all it was. “Let’s go. We don’t have much time until the Grandmaster’s party.” You made a show of turning your back to him and headed to the door. You sensed more than heard him following, not surprised when he fell into step beside you. You placed your palm on the scanner, grimacing as you wrenched the door open, subjecting your poor ear drums once more to the horrid cacophony that was the cell block 

“We’re starting? Already?” he asked, surprised.

You shrugged. “I’ve waited a few millennia. Forgive me if I seem impatient. It’s just a party, though. An opportunity to introduce you to Sakaaran ‘hospitality’ before I set you loose on your own.” 

“I’m wearing _rags_ ,” he said, gesturing forlornly to what was left of what was likely a very fetching dark green leather outfit. 

“I have clothes for you,” you said, rolling your eyes. _What a drama queen._ You pressed the button for the elevator, pleasantly surprised when the door opened immediately.

“Aren’t you worried about the Grandmaster seeing me with you?” he asked as he followed you into the elevator. 

You sighed. “If you’re half as charming as you think you are, I doubt it will be a problem.” 

He glared at the backhanded insult, but thankfully didn’t keep arguing with you. 

* * *

[Originally posted by astouract](https://tmblr.co/ZwUU9m2SA0Yav)

“What do you think?” 

You looked up from your spot on the couch in your expansive closet, eyes falling upon Loki, who looked much too smug and comfortable in your finest fur coat. 

“I think that if you don’t take that off right now you’re not going to make it out of this room alive,” you said, gaze returning to your holo. 

Loki scoffed dismissively but took it off anyway, or at least he appeared to. 

Without looking up, you spoke, “If you don’t put the real thing back this instant I’ll skin you alive and add your hide to my collection.”

Loki sighed in annoyance and removed the glamour, placing the real furs back on an empty hook as it rotated past on the carousel. “Promises, promises…” he muttered bitterly. 

“What was that?” you asked, annoyance seeping into your voice as you looked up at him through your lashes. 

“Nothing, dear.”

With a flick of your wrist a dagger sailed mere millimeters above his head. You could tell from the way he stiffened that he’d felt the blade disturb the air over his head. He glanced at the dark dagger stuck firmly in the wall then over at you, offended disbelief etched into his face. 

Still flicking through the news feed, you didn’t so much as spare him a glance. “There was an annoying buzzing keut in the room, so I killed it.”

“What on Asgard is a keut?” Loki asked, annoyance plain as day in his tone. 

“Tiny winged insect. Very annoying. Likes feces. Never stops making noise,” you explained, finally looking up to give him a pointed look.

He let out a huff of annoyance and returned to the racks of clothing. “You have too much clothing,” he said after a few minutes.

Another dagger passed within millimeters of his face and suddenly he wasn’t so eager to talk while you were reading. 

* * *

Not fifteen minutes later he’d found an outfit he was satisfied with. He walked out from behind the changing screen, practically preening with satisfaction. 

You set your holo down and gave him a once over (maybe a twice over, but he wouldn’t be able to see that). “You’re wearing that, then?” 

He looked down at his outfit, frown marring his pretty face. “Is there something wrong with this?” he asked, gesturing to himself.

You shrugged. “No, I was just wondering if you were finally finished or not.” 

He rolled his eyes. “You’re wearing _that?_ That sad excuse for an outfit?” 

“No.” 

“Then you hardly get to be the judge of me. You’re not even ready yet,” he said gesturing to your relaxed form sprawled out on the couch. 

“Well you’re in my room and I’m sure not giving you a show for free,” you said, smirking beneath your mask. 

He opened his mouth a few times, but no sound came out until, finally, “Right. I’ll… wait outside, then?” he asked delicately. 

You nodded. “Don’t go far. You could run to the Grandmaster if you really wanted to, but he’s not as forgiving as I am.” 

Loki frowned. “You’ll kill me if I run. How could he possibly be worse?”

You shrugged. “I may kill you, but it’ll be relatively painless. Grandmaster will melt you from the inside out. It’s gruesome, really.”

Loki looked disgusted by this new revelation. “Waiting outside. Got it.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at him as he walked out the door, shutting it gently behind him. If you let yourself forget, for a moment, that he would kill you the moment he got the chance, he really would have been pleasurable company.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You left Svartalfheim before the first victory against your people and avoided the extinction by living in Sakaar, the home of all lost things like yourself. You lived there for a long time and built yourself a sort of home there… until a couple of Asgardians show up and ruin everything for you.  
> The trip to the Grandmaster’s palace goes better than expected, and you catch up with an old frenemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extraterrestrial slavery, swearing (always)

## 

[Originally posted by tranquility7651](https://tmblr.co/Z_JU8j2RgB1kM)

_You nodded. “Don’t go far. You could run to the Grandmaster if you really wanted to, but he’s not as forgiving as I am.”  
_

_Loki frowned. “You’ll kill me if I run. How could he possibly be worse?”_

_You shrugged. “I may kill you, but it’ll be relatively painless. Grandmaster will melt you from the inside out. It’s gruesome, really.”_

_Loki looked disgusted by this new revelation. “Waiting outside. Got it.”  
_

_You couldn’t help but smile at him as he walked out the door, shutting it gently behind him. If you let yourself forget, for a moment, that he would kill you the moment he got the chance, he really would have been pleasurable company._

* * *

As promised, Loki waited patiently just outside your door, back to the cold medal and arms crossed casually across his chest. His gaze flicked to you the moment the door to your room slid open and, for the first time since you met him, he seemed at a loss for words. Your bright red and gold dress trailed along the ground, the soft fabric whispering against the rough metal-grated floor of your compound. Although nearly every inch of your body was covered, it hugged you skin-tight, leaving little to the imagination.

“Something the matter, Loki Laufeyson?” you asked playfully, smile dancing behind your mask. 

His eyes hardened a measure at your playful jab and he tore his gaze from you with what seemed like a great effort. “Just tired of waiting for you,” Loki said loftily, earning a short breathy chuckle from you. 

“I see, then. My apologies. It takes me a great while to squeeze into this dress, but the final presentation is worth it, no?” you asked sweetly, placing yourself directly in front of him. 

You could see Loki’s throat bob as he gulped audibly, determinedly looking just right of your face. “Yes, you look quite agreeable. I’m sure you’ll blend in perfectly.” 

Your lips tugged up at the corners, devious grin on your face. Was this man not approached by women often? There was no way. He was sex on two legs. Perhaps he was conflicted between being attracted to you and wanting to see you as a rival or worthy leader. Either way, his reaction amused you to no end. 

“Thank you, Loki. Shall we be going?” you asked, proffering your arm out for him.

“Yes, I’m eager to meet this Grandmaster,” he said, eyes straight ahead as the two of you began gliding down the hallway. If you weren’t mistaken, his gaze kept flicking to you as you snaked your hand around his elbow and led him to the shuttle bay. 

As the door to the hangar slid open to reveal the lines of ships of different shapes and sizes you could see him take in every possible escape option. You could see him eye the small one-person craft in the corner and secretly appreciated his decision. It was easily one of the nicest ships in your collection, capable of traveling off planet. 

“We’ll be taking Palesius. She’s small and fast, but not space worthy.” You pointed to the ship in question, a small luxury liner used specifically for visiting the Grandmaster’s palace. It didn’t have any guns so it was fast enough to outrun any possible pursuers with the added benefit of getting you to the other side of the planet in a reasonable amount of time. The bright electric blue and bloody red paint reflected brilliantly even in the dim artificial light. 

Loki seemed to walk forward without even realizing it, his feet carrying him to the front of the vessel where his fingers grazed hull of the well-kept ship. 

“You approve?” you asked smugly, watching him eye the machine like a kid in a candy shop. 

He retracted his hand quickly as though the metal had burned him. “It will do,” he said happily, trying to preserve his persona of feigned affability. 

The door opened as you walked over to it and you stepped inside, giving him a single warning as he stepped onto the ship behind you. “Unless you feel like walking back or stealing from the Grandmaster- which is suicide- I suggest you don’t kill me. This ship can only be piloted by myself. Biometric scans and all that, you know how it is,” you said, sliding gracefully into the pilot’s seat. The ship turned on the moment your butt hit the chair and you smiled as you felt the familiar hum of the engines starting. 

“Wonderful.”

* * *

“Scrapper 23, requesting landing,” you said to the masked man on the large holo screen that took up half of your ship’s front window. 

“Permission granted, Scrapper 23. Proceed to spot X-49,” the man told you with the bored efficiency of a man that had spent too much time doing a single monotonous job. 

You thanked him before the screen clicked off then you relaxed back into your chair as you let your ship’s computer guide you to the correct spot. 

“I’m proud of you,” you said, throwing Loki a grin that he couldn’t see.

He stopped staring out the window (taking everything in with a frightening curiosity and seriousness) and turned a confused stare on you. “I can’t tell if you’re mocking me or not,” he said, unsure.

You smiled. “Completely serious. We made it the entire way here without you trying to kill me. Must be a new record. I half expected you to stab me the moment we were in the air.”

He grinned, eyes sharp. “The promise of world domination was just too alluring and I’m afraid I’m too green here to do it by myself just yet.” 

You made a dramatic hurt noise. “And here I was thinking you had finally taken a liking to me.”

His response couldn’t have surprised you more. “Well there was that, too,” he said with a playful smile. 

“Ah, the Frost Giant’s heart thaws. Such a compelling tale!” you said as you pulled into your spot between two other similarly sized ships. Judging by how full the Grandmaster’s garage was, it was to be a large party. It was better that way, it’d be even easier for Loki to sneak around and gather information. 

He rolled his eyes at your dramatic exclamations. “Anything I should know before we enter?”

“Oh, of course, but I don’t have the time to teach you everything. Just try not to offend the Grandmaster, alright? It’ll reflect badly on me if he turns you to goo and I’m already walking on thin ice with him and his people.”

Loki stared flatly at you. “I’m sorry if my being melted makes your life a little more difficult.”

You bit back a smirk but didn’t rise to the bait. “Thank you, I’m so glad you understand.” 

Loki opened his mouth to argue but the shuttle door opened and he quickly snapped it shut again. You stood and held your hand out to him and he eyed it warily. 

“Shall we, lover?” you asked, shit-eating grin hidden behind your mask.

“I beg your pardon?” Loki asked incredulously. 

“Oh, did I forget to mention that’s how I’m sneaking you in? As my lover?” you asked, biting back a laugh at the look on his face. He wasn’t the only one who could cause mischief. 

Loki glared at you. “Is that normal behavior for you? Toting lovers to the Grandmaster’s ostentatious parties?” 

“No.”

“Then why? Surely that will come off as suspicious. I’ll attract too much attention,” Loki argued, looking angrier by the second. 

“I’m counting on it, sweetheart. I never bring anyone but Halu to his parties. The Grandmaster won’t be able to take his eyes off you and I can guarantee he’ll try to steal you out from under me. He hates when I have toys he doesn’t have.”

“So I’m to be bait,” Loki deadpanned.

“I suppose that depends on how you play it. I was thinking of you more as a spy or high-value informant, but if you want to be bait, then I won’t stop you,” you said, grin evident in your tone.

Loki scoffed but reached up and clasped his hand around your outstretched one and hauled himself to his feet. “Fine, we do it your way, Dark Elf.”

As you exited the ship hand in hand with him the thought crossed your mind that, perhaps, he hadn’t put up as much of a fuss with your plan as you’d expected him to.

* * *

[Originally posted by theavengers](https://tmblr.co/ZhzcSn2S7Yzvs)

You wandered through the levels of Grandmaster’s palace, mingling and showing Loki off as you went. You knew by the time you arrived in front of the Grandmaster that he would have heard all about you and your mysterious guest.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find some modicum of comfort in the simple act of holding his hand in this pit of vipers.

Sure enough, the moment you set foot in the same room as him on the forty-ninth floor, he spotted you immediately and made a beeline for you. Topaz followed dutifully behind, glaring murderous daggers at you the whole way. 

“23! So good to see you!” Grandmaster said excitedly. You hadn’t seen him this happy to see you in literally thousands of years. “Who’s your fetching little friend?” he asked, saucily-predatory gaze immediately falling to Loki who, to his credit, didn’t miss a beat. His hand dropped from yours and he took an objectively graceful (and very dramatic bow) in front of the Grandmaster.

“Your greatness, Grandmaster! I’ve heard so much about you from 23! Her tales of your illustriousness and impeccable taste didn’t do you justice. It is truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Loki simpered. You rolled your eyes, thankful the mask hid your expression from all present. 

The Grandmaster tittered happily, practically vibrating with excitment. “Oh my! Wwell aren’t you just a little sweet-talker,” he gushed, already smitten with Loki as you knew he would be. Damned fool was too susceptible to flattery. 

“Kiss ass,” Topaz said in disgust, just as charming as ever. 

Grandmaster waved her comments away. “Now now, Topaz. They’re our guests. 23 always brings me interesting things.”

You didn’t miss the way Loki bristled a bit at being called a thing. You came to his rescue almost without thinking about it, though you knew your words would only make the Grandmaster want Loki more. “I’m sorry, Grandmaster, but he’s not for sale. I’m afraid I’ve become quite taken with this one and he’s one of a kind,” you said, surprising Loki by reaching up to tuck one of his locks of raven black hair back behind his ear. His eyes flashed warily to you, but his posture was still relaxed enough that neither Topaz nor the Grandmaster picked up on his surprise. “I do, however, see a few other guests I’ve not talked with in some time. Shall I leave the two of you to get to know each other better while I catch up with old friends?” you asked placatingly. You didn’t like the way Topaz was gripping the melt stick. 

At this, the Grandmaster surged forward and took Loki around the shoulders. You couldn’t help but smile at the look of abject horror on Loki’s face as he was shepherded away by the Grandmaster. 

“I’ll find you later, love! Have fun!” you said cheerfully, biting back a laugh at Loki’s look of betrayal while the Grandmaster chattered his ear off. 

Good luck, you thought to yourself. Loki was charming enough that you knew there was no way the Grandmaster would kill him, but getting him back before you left might prove difficult. 

Luckily, the Grandmaster’s parties lasted days. You had plenty of time.

You’d been to the Grandmaster’s palace enough times that, even with all the renovations and redesigns, you managed to make it to the nearest bar on the first try. _She should be-_ Sure enough, you spotted the head of brown-black hair sitting at the bar working through what looked like an entire keg of ale. 

You crossed the room and sat down beside Scrapper 142. She was so sauced she didn’t even notice you immediately. When she finally looked over at you she did a double-take, then groaned. “Whadd _you_ want?” she grumped, rewarding herself with another swig of ale for the effort of stringing together an entire two-ish word sentence. 

“Am I not allowed to check up on my friends?” you asked kindly, waving the bartender over. 

“’M not your friend, Elf. I’m a business rival at best,” 142 griped. 

You rested your elbow on the table then cradled your head in your hand. “I’m wounded, 142. And here I was ready to forgive you for poaching on my territory.”

142 rolled her eyes. “You aren’t forgiving shit, both of us know that. Deal was I stop killing your guys and you let me scavenge in your territory once in a while.” 

You gave the bartender a grateful nod and began on sipping whatever the hell it was he’d just poured for you. Something fruity and… tasting vaguely of raw meat? You decided not to question it. “I sometimes wonder what I get from that deal,” you said, tone light and teasing with just a hint of business-like threat underneath. 

142 turned and leveled a very unfocused glare at you. “Less dead workers, mostly.” 

You tilted your head at her, smile dancing on your lips. You really wished this woman didn’t find her salvation at the bottom of a bottle. She would have been _so_ much fun to fight. 

142 only glowered harder. “Stop starin’ at me with that creepy fucking mask. Too drunk for this shit right now, 23.” 

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” you quipped. 

“I hate you.” 

You laughed at this, earning a half-hearted shove from 142 that still managed to make you grab the bar so you wouldn’t go tipping off your seat. 142 was too drunk and lazy to leave (free booze was the best kind of booze, after all) but didn’t feel like initiating conversation with you so she buried herself in the bottom of another tankard of mystery ale. 

“I met another one today,” you said finally, fingers running over the condensation on your glass.

Even smashed, 142 didn’t miss a beat. “What, another asshole? Plenty’a those around.”

You let out a short breath of a laugh. “No, you complete arse. An Asgardian.” 

142 took a long swig of ale and looked as though someone had crapped in it, though you knew it was only her distaste at your news. “An’ why the hell should I care?” 

You shrugged. “Dunno. He’s an interesting one is all. I’m keeping him for a while. He’s fun, likes to keep me on my toes.” 

142 turned a surprisingly shrew eye on you and you suddenly felt like you were being x-rayed. Finally, she took another drink, smug smile on her face. “You like him,” she said as she slammed the tankard down on the sleek counter. 

Under your mask your cheeks heated at the sudden accusation. “What? No! He’s just the most interesting person on this stupid rock… besides me, of course!” you sputtered.

142 laughed and you nearly smiled with her. She almost never showed any emotion besides annoyance distaste… occasionally smugness. 

“Like I said, you like him! That’s some messed up crap, 23. A Dark Elf falling for an Asgardian. That’s a tragedy in the making if I’ve ever heard it.”

“Oh fuck off, 142,” you said with a groan, covering your mask with your hands. “He’s not even truly Asgardian. He’s Frost Giant.” 

142 stopped laughing and looked at you at that revelation. “What are you on about? I thought you said he’s Asgardian. I didn’t think I was _that_ drunk… though I should be.”

“He’s Frost Giant blood, Asgardian raised,” you explained, suddenly wishing you had more details. You knew very little of exactly how that had come to pass. 

“Bullshit,” 142 concluded, returning to her drinking. 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not fucking with you, 142. You’d know that if you just-”

“I’m not going anywhere near ‘im, 23. Now stop going on about it or I’ll stab you,” 142 threatened, holding out a thin pointed dagger for emphasis. 

You rolled your eyes. “You and I both know we’d destroy this place before either of us took a hit.” 

142 held the dagger at you for a second or two more before she let out a snort and sheathed it back into her boot. “Yeah, you’re right. You may have a stick up your ass, but they built you Elves tough.”

“And you may have a hard head, but they build you Asgardians like ghilres.”

142 turned and stared at you, brows furrowed in confusion. “What the hell is a ghilre?” 

You frowned and tilted your head to the side. “You don’t know about them? Big, strong, four-legged animals with tough hides that not even dark steel could pierce. Very big horns in front. Tiny eyes. Thick skull. Likes ramming things head-on.”

“So… biglesnipes.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Loki continue your joint scheming and you find that he’s worked his way into your life more than you’d ever expected.

[Originally posted by astouract](https://tmblr.co/ZwUU9m2R-43gi)

_142 held the dagger at you for a second or two more before she let out a snort and sheathed it back into her boot. “Yeah, you’re right. You may have a stick up your ass, but they built you Elves tough.”_

_“And you may have a hard head, but they build you Asgardians like ghilres.”_

_142 turned and stared at you, brows furrowed in confusion. “What the hell is a ghilre?”  
_

_You frowned and tilted your head to the side. “You don’t know about them? Big, strong, four-legged animals with tough hides that not even dark steel could pierce. Very big horns in front. Tiny eyes. Thick skull. Likes ramming things head-on.”_

_“So… biglesnipes.”_

* * *

“Your ships can’t compete against the Grandmaster’s fleet. Even the citizens could give you a run for your money; it’s their home, after all. They’ll know the city better than you,” Loki said tersely, staring intently at the holo screen detailing your ships, fighters, turf, and supplies. 

“So you didn’t get the garage pass, then?” you asked knowingly, a smug smirk on your face. 

“That’s besides the point,” he said, bristling in a way that was much too endearing. 

“If you get the garage pass we needn’t worry about the Grandmaster’s ships. I can have my people on the inside ready and waiting; the Grandmaster will lose half his fleet before he can do anything about it.” 

“That’s if we can get past his guards, the fail-safes, give your people warning, and if I can even get it in the first place!” Loki countered. 

You smiled broadly at him. “I have faith in you.” 

Loki stared flatly at you. “Truly, a terrible decision.” 

You shrugged, smile not leaving your face as you stretched. “Maybe. We’ll see. But we’ve been talking each other in circles for hours and I’m famished. Care to join me for dinner?” you asked, trying to keep the hopeful tone out of your voice. You’d grown attached to the Asgardian in the last week. More than you likely should have. 

Loki scowled but nodded after a moment. “That is agreeable, I suppose.” 

“So gracious,” you teased, purposefully turning your back on him. You carefully sidestepped the dagger he sent flying towards your back; it embedded itself in the dirty metal wall of the hallway outside your room. You smirked at him over your shoulder, chuckling quietly as he swore under his breath. “You’re not being very creative, Asgardian.” 

He shrugged and put on one of those uncaring masks he wore most of the time, all fake levity and charm. “One’s bound to hit its mark at some point,” he said with a smile. 

You laughed, full and loud. You’d been laughing a lot more since Loki crash-landed on Sakaar; you made a mental note to give Halu a raise for being so stubborn and gullible and bringing Loki to your attention. “Keep telling yourself that.”

You didn’t have to turn around to know he was glaring angrily at the back of your head. 

* * *

Not a half hour later you were back in your room, the only place on your base you deemed clean enough to eat in (the kitchen was passable thanks to Kijhet’s efforts to keep it at least somewhat sanitary… bless that Kree). Loki floated gracefully behind you, his feet barely whispering against the floor as he walked. You plopped down on your couch with a satisfied sigh and set your overflowing plate and precariously full cup down on the low table in front of you, not waiting for Loki to get settled before you took the lower half of your mask off and dug in. 

“Remind me to give Kijhet a raise,” you said with relish as you tore into an unidentifiable pile of food. Some sort of meat, some greens, maybe some synthetic protein product? It didn’t look like much but Kijhet managed to make it taste like heaven. “That man is a wizard, I swear it,” you said with a smile, popping another piece into your mouth. You didn’t exactly get the nicest foodstuffs on Sakaar, but he still managed to make delicious and filling food on the daily. 

Loki was eyeing his plate with distaste, though, still not trusting of Kijhet’s skills, even after all this time. He pushed the food around with his fork, grimacing comically when it made a wet noise.

“It’s not poisoned, you know,” you said after you swallowed hard. To prove your point you reached over to his plate and picked a piece of meat off of it, dangling it over your mouth before dropping it in and chewing with a huge smile as Loki squawked indignantly. 

“Hey! You have your own plate!” he said testily. 

Your grin widened though and you had the good manners to finish chewing and swallow before you spoke. “Well you were too busy eyeing me and my food. It didn’t take a genius to determine you were afraid it was poisoned. I need you, God of Mischief. It would not do to poison you before our business is concluded.” 

“It could be a slow-acting poison. You could have an antidote for yourself,” he countered, though he picked up his fork and began eating anyway. 

You laughed, though. “Except for the part where I don’t know when you’ll be done with your task. If it takes longer than I expect you could drop dead in the middle of the Grandmaster’s Palace. Can’t have that now, can we? i know he likes you already. Waste of a perfectly attractive agent, way I see it,” you said cheekily, side-eyeing him as you reached for your drink, only for your hand to go straight through it. 

You immediately turned to Loki, surprised and a bit offeneded. “You nicked my drink!” you accused, vaguely aware of the can on the table vanishing in a greenish light. 

“I did no such thing,” he said calmly, picking primly at his plate. 

You smirked and noticed absently that he kept looking at your face. You realized this was the first time you’d eaten around him… or anyone besides Halu, for that matter. The smile slipped off your face self-consciously and you tried to work your expression back into something resembling neutrality. “Is there a problem?” you asked, stiffening unconsciously. You were used to being judged for being a Dark Elf, but not after being so open to someone. It seemed you’d made a mistake after all. Jotunheim born, Asgardian raised, and it seemed the Asgardian preconceptions won out. 

His gaze flicked back to his plate and stayed there, and you couldn’t help but frown at the little twinge deep in your chest. 

Stupid. You were so stupid for thinking he’d be different. 

“No, nothing. You’ve never told me about Svartalfheim,” he said, obviously trying to change the subject. 

“And I never will,” you said flatly. “Return my drink to me,” you said testily. 

“It’s right next to you,” he said, tilting his head to the couch cushion beside you. The seal was thankfully still intact so it hadn’t spilled all over your precious leather couch (from a place on Midgard called Furniture World, which was a stupid name. It wasn’t nearly as large as a planet. It could fit inside your base easily ten times over. Humans had such stupid names for things sometimes. It was part of why you hated Midgard… though you also hadn’t visited it for any real period of time. According to one of your warriors- a human woman named Susanna- Tusk-Anny was a very nice place to go. You’d wondered for an entire night why the humans had named a village after this girl Anny’s tusks, but eventually fell asleep without finding an answer. Stupid Humans and their stupid names for things.).

The two of you ate in awkward silence for a while until he spoke up again. “I suppose it’s only fair. I’ve told you nothing of Asgard, so I can hardly expect you to tell me about Svartalfheim,” he said quietly, eating with a kind of careful nonchalance that told you he was trying to make up for his earlier blunder. 

You had half a mind to tell him to shove his stories where the sun doesn’t shine, but bit back any rude comments. Asgard… was a story to you. Despite fighting in the great war between your people and Asgard, you were born so late in the war that your people were already losing ground to the Asgardians. King Bor and his blighted armies with their long ships and inferior weapons managed to beat your people back system by system until at last the war came to a head on Svartalfheim. You never saw Asgard or any other realm before your flight from your home world. Asgard was a story told around campfires and in ships. Stories of people with colorful hair, soft and opulent clothing, and a grand, golden city with a rainbow bridge. Of course it was tinged with the hatred of Asgardians by your people. They marked the physical differences, thought of themselves as better (and why hadn’t they? In the Great Black Abyss, your people had been bested by none, masters of all. They couldn’t fathom how they were losing and still reeling from the birth of a world that blinded them and seemed to reject their very existence. Of course they held onto their pride in such a situation.) and it showed in each and every story. You had no idea what was true and what was fiction. 

When you didn’t say anything Loki seemed to take that as an invitation to continue. He glanced at you only once, his gaze assessing and careful. “I suppose Asgard is odd in that it isn’t a sphere. It’s flat and not as large as most other races seem to realize. There are mountains surrounding the city and fields mixed between. The ocean runs off into space only for it to come back down as rain later.” 

“You have salty rain?” you asked, unable to stop the question before it left your lips. 

If he was surprised by your sudden interest, he didn’t show it beyond a small smile at the frown on your lips. “No, our ocean is fresh water.” 

“Oh,” you said, surprised. In most realms you knew of, oceans were by and large made of salt water. 

Loki nodded as though you’d said something very interesting. “I used to swim in it when I was younger, but my mother always yelled at me afterwards. She was afraid I’d fall off the planet,” he said, melancholy smile and far-off glazed look telling you she wasn’t around anymore. You didn’t know what to say so you simply let him be for a moment, eyes glued to your plate. 

You never knew your own mother. Not really. She’d died in the war when you were too young to even speak. Your father… well, you didn’t like to think about him. He may have been your father but he assuredly didn’t raise you.

He gazed off for a moment longer before he seemed to remember where he was. He blinked a few times and shook his head once as though physically clearing the images inside it before returning his gaze to you… and promptly looking away again. 

“The city truly is golden. According to my mother’s stories, Odin and his fathers before him received it all as tithes and gifts from the other realms, though I suspect that’s not the entire story. There was always something about the way she told it that sat wrong with me… but I could never find anything stating otherwise.”

“War.”

Loki looked at you now, single eyebrow raised. “Excuse me?” he asked mildly. 

“I’ll bet you half of Sakaar that Odin and Bor were war profiteers. Our people had no gold so I know it didn’t come from us, but I’ve heard whispers over the years. Additionally… no nation in their right mind would give their wealth over of their free will. It was taken. Spoils of war,” you said, matter-of-factly. Perhaps you were just being cynical of Asgardian monarchs, though it may go the other way; Loki and other Asgardians may not see the truth, blinded by the wealth and peace they so enjoy now. 

Loki went quiet and seemed to weigh your words for a short while and you let him. You finished off the last of your dinner and checkws your holo pad. Your thoughts swirled around unbidden, all the talk of Asgard dredging up long-buried images of Svartalfheim. 

“It was beautiful, once,” you said quietly, surprising even yourself. “I never saw it at the heights of its beauty but, sometimes, when I ran away from where I was being raised, I saw the forests and rives and mountains… that was before the war started tearing it apart, though. By the time I was fifteen my people had harvested nearly all the natural resources of our land to fuel our war machine. One-sprawling forests were reduced to dusty fields. Animals died in droves. Rivers and lakes dried up. It is as much the Asgardian’s fault as it was our own that our homeland is now a barren rock filled with only dust and broken ships.”

Loki tilted his head at the implied admission. “You went back?” 

You sighed heavily and nodded. “Only once. I think it was around a thousand years ago in non-Sakaar time. I saw the last of the great battleships marooned in the planet-wide dunes. Bodies of my people dried and shriveled but not decaying because no creatures exist to turn them to dirt.

I did not stay long.”

Loki stared at you, looking a little distraught behind his usually carefree mask. “I’m sorry.” 

You gave him a smile as you leaned back into the couch. “Thank you, but I made peace with it a long, long time ago. When Malekith and his chosen left me and my fellow soldiers to die, I stopped caring for my people. We let our pride blind us, refused to adapt to this new universe. Returning it to darkness would kill more people than it saved… and I’m a spiteful bitch who’ll never forgive my king for letting so many of his people die. Good riddance, I say.” 

Loki’s lips tilted up in a small smirk, but he was still scrutinizing you with surprising intensity. “Still, I imagine you must miss Svartalfheim… as it was, not as it is.” 

You shrugged. “It is too light now, anyway. When our people stopped tending to the dark matter fields that shielded it from the light of the universe it became uninhabitable to my people. We could not live there now- even with food and water- without blanketing the space around it in dark matter.”

“Would you die without the mask? In direct sunlight?” Loki asked with what sounded like genuine concern. 

You leaned back a bit and stared flatly at him. “I swear if you take my mask off in an attempt to kill me you won’t make it-”

“-Off this planet alive?” Loki asked, sounding almost bored. 

“Correct,” you said tersely. 

“That was not my intent. I’m simply curious.” 

You stared at him for a moment, trying to see if it was just innocent curiousity. Finding no malice in his eyes, you sighed. “No, we do not die from exposure to starlight. However we’re essentially blinded by it. It is too much for our eyes to handle. What you call low light we would call blinding. It would be like staring into a sun for you.”

He frowned, which surprised you. “I’m sorry I asked you to take your mask off, then.” 

There was that odd tone again. 

“Are you?” you asked, regarding him curiously. 

He shifted and if you weren’t mistaken he suddenly seemed… nervous. “Yes.” 

No, that still didn’t sound right. You sat up, suddenly intrigued. “You don’t sound like you mean that,” you said, watching his reaction closely. 

He sat up almost stiffly while also trying to appear at ease. It was an odd reaction. “I assure you, it wasn’t my intent to make you uncomfortable by taking your mask off and I regret that that was the outcome.”

That sounded sincere, at least. “But you don’t regret asking me to take it off,” you stated, taking notice of his careful phrasing. 

He finally looked away from you. “No.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out. You hadn’t been expecting him to admit that. You thought that it would take at least another two days of friendly interrogation to wheedle that out of him. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, gaping like a fish. “Why not?”

He still refused to look at you, staring at the wall as though it was the most interesting thing in the world. “Because I still stand by my principle of refusing to work with someone if I have no idea who they are.”

You crossed your arms and frowned at him. “You’re lying.” 

“No I’m not.” 

“Yes, you are.” 

“I really won’t work for or with someone if I don’t know who they are,” he said angrily.

“I believe that,” you said calmly.

“I’m glad we’re in agreement.” 

“No, you were definitely lying earlier.” 

Loki groaned and buried his face in his hands. “I’m done with this conversation. You’re insufferable. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He stood abruptly and immediately headed for the door. 

You frowned at the insult, surprised at how much it hurt you. This man tried to kill you on a nearly daily basis, but for some reason the verbal jab hurt worse than any blade could. “No, you won’t. Me and my scrappers are leaving before you awake. We’re taking out Gharui’s operation tomorrow. You’ll have left for the Grandmaster’s Palace before we get back. It’ll be a few days before I see you.” 

He paused halfway to the door and you wished fervently that you could see his face… but he didn’t turn around. “Then I’ll talk with you when I get back. Hopefully with the Grandmaster’s hangar pass in-hand. I wish you luck with Gharui, though I know you won’t need it.”

A tentative smile crept back onto your face, though it was nearly squashed when he still didn’t turn around and look at you. “Thank you, Loki. I wish you luck, and I know you’ll need it because the Grandmaster is certifiably insane. Enjoy the fight; I know you haven’t seen the Champion in action yet. He’s a memorable fighter and… nevermind. Be safe.” 

Loki nodded and continued silently to the door, freezing with a hand hovering above the biometric scanner when you spoke again. 

“Thank you, Loki.” 

“For?” he asked in a careful, neutral tone, still not turning to look at you. You tried not to let that hurt you, but failed.

You smiled, but it was more of a grimace. “For eating dinner with me,” you said quietly. 

[Originally posted by lokitty](https://tmblr.co/ZuFSVi2NtDkJ6)

He finally turned to look at you over his shoulder now, a shy, tentative smile and soft green eyes making him look hundreds of years younger. “That was _my_ pleasure, (Y/N). Goodnight,” he said, finally unlocking the door and stepping through without another word. 

“Goodnight, Loki…” you murmured, gaze lingering on the space where he’d just been. 

You didn’t sleep particularly well that night and when you did, your dreams were plagued with a green-eyed, raven-haired Trickster God.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected guest on Sakaar throws you and Loki for a loop. With this newcomer throwing your plan into question, you and Loki sit down and talk, with secrets long buried coming back to haunt you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Swearing maybe?, mentions of death, space slavery  
> A/N: I’m not ignoring this fic on purpose, I swear.

[Originally posted by sarolina20](https://tmblr.co/ZYPNmd2UiWa_A)

Two and a half days. That’s how long it was before you were able to see Loki again. You tapped away at the flight console, annoyance seeping into every pore in your body.

Gharui’s operation had fallen almost too easily and you’d trusted Halu and the rest of your scrappers with the acquisition of your new property. You’d had a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach from the moment Loki had walked out the door of your chambers three nights ago. You’d learned long ago to trust your gut which, in this case, meant taking your personal shuttle from Gharui’s to your base, then grabbing Larenius, your fastest, smallest ship, and flying straight to the Grandmaster’s palace.

You jammed a finger into one of the buttons on the console. “Scrapper 23, requesting permission to land,” you barked over the line before the poor dock worker on the other side had a chance to say anything.

He sounded a little hesitant when he spoke, but he nodded anyway. “Dock in spot F-219. The Grandmaster wasn’t expecting you, so-”

You smashed the button on your dash and the screen blinked off, throwing the cabin of your ship into silence. Even a deep breath did little to calm your frayed nerves.

You parked a little hastily, nearly scratching Larenius’ beautiful golden paint job. 

The moment the door was open wide enough you jumped out, not even looking back to make sure no one managed to sneak in before the door had shut (it wasn’t unheard of on Sakaar to steal ships that way, even in the Grandmaster’s hangars).

One excruciatingly long elevator ride later and you were on one of the party levels. Loki had been maintaining radio silence while he worked, so you wouldn’t know exactly where he was inside of the Grandmaster’s palace until you spotted him with your own two eyes.

It was somewhat fortuitous, then, that you spotted him within the first twenty minutes of looking. The tension that had been coalescing in every muscle in your body slowly bled out as you watched him. He hadn’t spotted you yet (or he had and was just being very convincing in his game of purposefully ignoring you) and you took a moment to just enjoy the way he worked a crowd.

The individuals around him all sat on the edge of their seats, leaning towards him as they ate up his stories and anecdotes. A female Shi’ar threw her head back in laughter and even a Vedomi was laughing in its tinny, synthesized voice.

His eyes were bright as he enchanted the people around him with nothing but his words and wit, and you nearly found yourself being dragged into his gravitational pull, even though you couldn’t hear his words from this far away. He’d changed clothes again since the last time you saw him: tight, dark blue-turquoise leather with gold and black accents.

It was unfair how good he looked in the clothing you’d given him. Something deep inside you preened at being the one to provide that for him, but you shoved the feeling back down without examining it too closely.

_He looked stunning._

The thought popped into your head without your consciousness’ decision and you had to shake your head to clear it of the thought.

“You look stupid.”

Your head swiveled, gaze landing on Scrapper 142. You’d been so distracted that you hadn’t even noticed her sneaking up on you. 

“You can’t even see my face,” you said a little too defensively.

142 smirked and you wanted to groan in annoyance. “Don’t need to. I know you’re lookin’ at him like he hung the stars in the sky,” she said, punctuating her statement by taking a huge swig of alcohol from the can in her hands. “What are you doin’ up here in your scrapper clothes anyway? You never wear anything but your most expensive shit at the Grandmaster’s Place.”

You fixed her with a glare she couldn’t see. “I had some business to attend to and needed to come here as soon as possible. I only stopped to change ships.”

“Oh yeah, you destroyed Gharui’s, didn’t you? Heard about that. Nice goin’. He was an ass,” she said, burping loudly once before taking another long drag from yet another bottle of mystery alcohol.

You finally turned to _really_ look at her. “You’re in a good mood,” you said suspiciously. Anything that put 142 in a good mood was generally bad for you (sometimes neutral, but never good).

“Got paid,” she said with a smirk and a cheeky raise of her eyebrows.

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “How much did you con the Grandmaster into giving you?”

142 looked a little offended. “Hey, I worked hard for him. Had to kill Khad’s crew to get to him.”

“And I’m sure that was such a hardship for you,” you said dryly, earning a smirk from 142.

“More of a _gun_ ship,” she said with the air of a drunk person who thought they’d just told a devastatingly hilarious joke.

You groaned audibly this time and fought the urge to run a hand down your mask (a bad quirk you’d picked up from living around people who didn’t wear masks all the time).

142 chuckled evilly for a few moments before sobering up and aiming her shit-eating grin towards you. “Ten mil.”

You balked for a moment. “Ten? What the fuck did you bring in?” you asked, shocked. You hadn’t heard of the Grandmaster forking over that much since-

142 shrugged, then tilted her head towards the center of the room. “Why don’t you ask your boytoy? He seems to know.”

Your gaze flicked instantly to Loki (you didn’t dwell on how easy it was for you to spot him in this sea of people). He was talking in hushed whispers to a burly blond Asgardian strapped to one of the Grandmaster’s chairs. Even from this distance you could spot a control disk attached to his neck.

You felt the blood drain from your face. He was talking just a few feet away from the Grandmaster who was watching their conversation with barely-veiled interest.

“Shit,” you muttered, clutching the dagger in your hand so tightly that you nearly shattered the grip.

“Shit is right. Good luck with that,” 142 said loftily, somehow walking away in a mostly straight line despite downing at least three drinks in the short amount of time she’d been standing there. “See you at the fight later!” she called over her shoulder before disappearing in the crowd of people.

With little idea of what you were doing and apprehension swirling low in your gut, you marched over to where Loki, the Grandmaster, Topaz, and the mystery Asgardian were gathered.

The Grandmaster was tapping away at the Qusar, much to the delight of his party guests, and looked up as you approached.

“Oh no, boys, it looks like one of you is in trouble,” he said suggestively with a little waggle of his eyebrows.

You tried to mask the anxiety in your voice, aiming for something like levity. “Don’t stop the fun on my account. I merely wished to see my lover,” you said, running a few fingers lightly over Loki’s pale cheek.

“Get away from him, _Dark Elf_ ,” the blond spat, straining against his bonds, obviously boiling with rage.

Before you could say anything the Grandmaster pointed his shock wand at the blond, who immediately convulsed as the blue control disk overloaded his nervous system. Loki tensed almost imperceptibly beside you but you didn’t turn to look at him, not wanting to draw any more attention to him.

“That’s not any way to talk to 23, Lord of Thunder. She’s my second favorite Scrapper. Only 142 brings me nicer toys than her, but 23 doesn’t ask for nearly as much for her prizes.” The Grandmaster turned to Topaz, who stared balefully at her boss. “What do I always say about 23, Topaz? She’s…?”

Topaz didn’t even blink. “An old crone.”

You almost laughed. You might have if the entire situation wasn’t so delicate.

Grandmaster sighed heavily. “N-no. I didn’t- I’ve never-” He sighed and looked at you almost apologetically. “I always say you’re _reliable_. Always have been.”

You nodded, voice thankfully coming out even. “Thank you, Grandmaster. I’m guessing this is the contender 142 was telling me about?” you asked, gesturing to the blond who’d gathered enough of his strength to thrash against his bonds when he realized you were talking about him.

The Grandmaster nodded eagerly. “He’s feisty! I like him a lot. He’s absolutely stunning, isn’t he? He just volunteered to fight against my Champion. You _are_ staying for the fight tonight, right?” he asked, with all the enthusiasm of a child in a candy shop.

You nodded again. “Of course, Grandmaster. It’s been a while since I’ve seen your Champion in battle. I’ll take great pleasure in watching him fight the newest thing 142 managed to scrounge up.”

Grandmaster’s eyes waggled suggestively. “Don’t forget to bring your cute plaything. He’s been absolutely enchanting. I can’t get enough of him,” he said, batting his eyelashes suggestively at Loki, who looked a little taken aback. The blond was looking between the Grandmaster and Loki and you with extreme confusion.

“Of course, Grandmaster. I wouldn’t dream of leaving him behind. Not with the splendid show you’re putting on tonight,” you said benevolently.

He seemed satisfied by your answer and pointed the shock wand at the chair, which started moving away from the four of you. “Off you go to processing, Lord of Thunder! You have to get ready for your fight!”

“Ahh! Loki!” he growled as he was carted away, leaving Loki staring off after him in apprehension.

You, however, kept your eyes firmly on the Grandmaster. “Thank you for your hospitality as always, Grandmaster. If my lover and I may take our leave before the festivities to… freshen up?” you asked, letting just a little bit of lasciviousness sneak into your tone as you wrapped an arm around his slim waist. You gripped his hip just hard enough to let him know it was best to play along.

The Grandmaster’s smile was almost indecent. “Of course! I understand completely, of course. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of him if I were you. You’ll join me in my personal box tonight for the fight, your Highness?” he asked, using your unofficial title playfully.

Loki tensed next to you and it came as a shock when you both spoke at the same time.

“Of course-”

“It would be-”

You both froze and looked at each other.

The silence stretched on for a moment and the Grandmaster’s gaze flicked between the two of you as though he was watching a game of K’dal ball.

Loki’s smile was tight as he turned back to the Grandmaster. “We’ll be there, your Greatness.”

You bit back the anxiety, letting your voice drop an octave as you pulled Loki a little closer to your side. “Well, we’ll try to be. This one is insatiable,” you said saucily.

The Grandmaster, however, only looked excited by this new revelation. “Maybe you’ll join me on the Commodore at some point?” he asked with a flirty wink.

Your voice was playful when you responded, hopefully light enough that your words wouldn’t offend him. “You’d have to make me one hell of an offer, Sir. I’m hard-pressed to relinquish my greatest prize in centuries.”

The Grandmaster merely waggled his eyebrows. “Then we’ll talk _business_ later. Have fun, you little lovebirds,” he called merrily with a wave as you steered Loki away from his insanity and Topaz’s watchful eye.

You managed to make it to an empty room before Loki whirled on you, barely managing to bite back his questions before the door slid shut with a click.

“Who was that?” you asked before he could speak up, gaze hard beneath your mask. “You nearly ruined your standing with the Grandmaster! Drew attention to yourself! All for 142′s newest contender! What the he-”

“He’s my brother!” Loki said loudly, right over your angry tirade.

That made you freeze. “He was no frost giant. He was Asgardian blood, through and through. Strong, too, from what I could see.”

Loki’s gaze darkened a little. “Adoptive brother,” he conceded. “What are you doing back? I thought you’d be busy with Gharui’s for at least another day?” he asked, turning the spotlight on you.

You glared at him behind the pitch black eye holes of your mask. “I rushed back because I had a bad feeling about all this. Lucky I did, too, or you might have raised the Grandmaster’s suspicion beyond repair.”

Loki’s gaze hardened to nearly the extent it had when you’d first met him a few weeks ago. “I know what I’m doing,” he hissed. “I have the Grandmaster right where I want him.”

You threw your hands up in annoyance. “Then why did you lose your head the moment you spotted your brother?!”

“I thought he was dead!” Loki yelled, annoyance and anger finally getting the better of him. You stared at him for a second and he took a few deep breaths, finally calming down enough to speak at a more reasonable volume. “I thought he’d been killed. When he didn’t come out of the Bifrost with me,” he said with a dark scowl.

You let that statement stagnate in the air between you for a few beats, trying to read into the bitter way he said it or the stormy scowl on his face.

“And you didn’t know how to feel about that and now you don’t know how to feel about him actually being alive,” you said, eyes narrowed as you studied his reaction.

He stiffened ever so slightly and neither confirmed nor denied your statement. “Why did you respond when he said ‘Your Highness’?” he asked instead.

You felt blindsided by the verbal parry and it took you a second to compose yourself. “It’s what he calls me sometimes. Princess of the Southern hemisphere and all,” you lied easily.

Loki however, was already shaking his head. “I’ll ask again. Why did you respond to ‘Your Highness’?”

You stared at him for a moment before dread crept down your spine, freezing your blood. “You know.” It wasn’t a question.

Loki only stared at you flatly. “I want to hear you say it.”

You bit your lip, worrying it between your sharp teeth. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” you answered eventually, echoing his words from all those weeks ago when you’d first met him in the cell in your base.

Loki’s gaze was hard for a second. Eventually he relented, dropping into one of the heavily-padded armchairs. He seemed to deflate a bit, which you hadn’t expected. He always seemed on edge and you took it as a compliment that he managed to relax around you. You tried hard to not read too much into it.

“I am Loki Laufeyson, adopted son of Odin and Frigga, Prince of Asgard, brother of Thor Odinson who, until about three weeks ago, was the rightful heir to the throne of Asgard.”

You raised an eyebrow at that and whistled low. “I know you’re prone to lying but that sounded brutally honest… and like there’s a story there that I haven’t heard yet,” you said.

Loki’s eyes narrowed at you. “Answer my question and I’ll finished the story,” he bargained.

You shrugged and slumped down in the armchair opposite him. It took you a moment to collect your thoughts. Centuries had passed since you’d thought too deeply about your past. Finally, you found a good place to start. “I never knew my mother. My father killed her the moment I was born. I was raised by servants, and treated like a tool of war, honed to a razor’s edge, forged in the fire of war. I always knew who my father was, but he never treated me like his daughter. I think, perhaps, he only had me so that he could unite the Dark Elves under a single banner. It worked, but it didn’t help in the end. We were destroyed by Bor and then again by your brother, Thor.” You sighed and took a deep breath. Loki was staring at you shrewdly, obviously annoyed that you hadn’t answered his question yet. Finally, “I was one of Malekith’s most trusted Generals. I led my people in battle the moment I came of age. Led them to victory after victory against the Asgardians. Still, it mattered not… My father… Malekith… he held no love for me. The only thing he wanted was power and the destruction of those that walked in the light. I grew tired of trying to please him and, when he finally turned his back on the legions I commanded, myself included, the last of my hope and love for my people evaporated as my ships fell from the skies. He ran away with the last of his chosen, leaving me to die as a distraction. It was just luck that I survived. My soldiers were not so lucky.”

Loki stared, a little wide-eyed. “I-I don’t… I didn’t think…”

You smiled, a little melancholy. “You met him, didn’t you? You were there with your brother when he slayed my father? Was that buffoon, Algrim, still by his side?”

Loki frowned. “Was he big? Ugly? Horned helmet?” he asked, confused.

You grimaced. “He must have used a Kurse Stone. What a fool,” you hissed. You let your thoughts dwell on your father and his second in command for a moment or two more before you finally affixed your stare on Loki once more. “I believe it is your turn.”

Loki frowned, but nodded. “Odin died a few weeks ago… probably days at most in non-Sakaaran time. Without his power the Goddess of Death, our sister and Odin’s firstborn, Hela, escaped from her realm where she’d been banished for thousands of years. She crushed my brother’s hammer, Mjolnir, like it was made of glass and kicked us both out of the Bifrost as we tried to escape. I assumed I was the only one who had made it out alive, but it seems it was just Sakaar’s unique interaction with time that made it seem so. In reality it just took him longer to arrive here. By now, Hela has probably taken over Asgard. Thor wishes to go back to challenge her, but-” he groaned and ran a hand over his face. “Even without the problems he currently faces here on Sakaar, he is not strong enough to take her on.”

You leaned back in your chair, assessing him coolly. Without your past swirling around in your head, you could once again think more clearly. “You want him to help us overthrow the Grandmaster.”

Loki looked back at you almost guiltily. “He’s strong. I haven’t seen the Grandmaster’s Champion yet, but I think Thor may have a chance of defeating him.”

You frowned at his naivety. “The Grandmaster paid 142 ten million credits for your brother. Even if he _does_ manage to best the Champion- and I’m not so sure he can- the Grandmaster won’t let your brother go so easily.”

Loki grimaced. “Thor believes the Grandmaster will uphold his word. That if he defeats his champion he shall win his freedom.”

You stared flatly at Loki. “How does he manage to be so naive with you as a brother?”

Loki groaned and threw his hands up in annoyance. “I know! He falls for the same tricks that he fell for a thousand years ago! You’d think by now he’d learn to be a little more wary, but no! He never learns!” Loki said, annoyed.

You smirked. “You worry about him.”

Loki turned and glared at you. “What? No. I do _not_ ,” he denied vehemently. “His stupidity is just annoying.”

You actually laughed at that. “He has no idea, does he?”

Loki looked offended now and sat up in his chair, leveling you with an angry glare. “I do _not_ care about him. I’ve tried to kill him at least a hundred times. Even faked my death so he couldn’t bother me anymore. _Twice_.”

You stared at him for a moment or two before laughing again. “Oh my gods, you have no idea either.”

Loki growled his annoyance and threw a dagger at you that you easily deflected. “Shut up,” he growled.

You kept laughing, though. “Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even know that you care about him. I’m so sorry.”

Loki was up in a flash, closing the distance between you in two long strides. “I do not care about that imbecile,” he hissed, face inches from yours.

You stared up at him, not moving beyond a tilt of your head and a whispered, “No? Then why do you protest?”

His face went carefully blank as he reined in his emotions.

You only smiled a little. “If you cared so little you would not be reacting this way. I saw the way you panicked when you spotted him across the room.”

Loki leveled a venomous stare at you. “You are mistaken. I only worried about what he would do to my own standing with the Grandmaster if he revealed the truth about me.”

You sighed and took off the bottom half of your mask so he could see your disappointed frown. Loki’s eyes flicked down to your mouth for the briefest of moments before moving back up to the eye holes of your mask. “I have been alive a long time, Loki. Your posturing does little to help you here.”

Loki’s face twisted with annoyance again. “You know nothing about me.”

You sighed and Loki’s eyes once again darted down to your mouth, which wasn’t surprising. It was the only part of your face that belied any emotion, as the rest was still hidden by your mask. “Don’t I?” you challenged quietly, letting a little vulnerability seep into your voice.

He stared, mouth opening and closing a few times without a single sound coming out.

You smiled sadly at him, just a little quirk of your lips at the corner. “We will free your brother when the moment is right. Until then we can only hope he will survive.”

Loki seemed to relax slightly at that, shoulders slumping a little as he sat back on the low table behind him. He was close enough that your knees knocked against each other ever so gently. “I… appreciate that. I’m afraid that he will not sit idly by and be a plaything of the Grandmaster, though.”

You frowned at that. “No one has ever escaped the Contest of Champions. Rarely, some are so loved by the Grandmaster that they are given their freedom, but none escape.”

Loki ran a hand through his dark hair, tension reappearing in his shoulders. “I am aware. But you don’t know him like I do. He’s stubborn, strong, and an idiot that doesn’t know when to quit. If anyone has a chance of escaping, it is him.”

You mulled that over, concerned frown drawing Loki’s attention. He so rarely got to see any of your expressions that he couldn’t manage to tear his gaze from you. “Let us hope, then, that the Grandmaster’s arrogance ensures your brother’s safety. I can move the timetable up but it will still be a few months before we’ll be ready to move.”

Loki grimaced in earnest at that. “He will not wait that long.”

You sighed. “Then we hope he’s not killed before we can rescue him.” Loki nodded slowly, lost in his own thoughts. You stared at him, studying his face as he daydreamed. Then, you smiled knowingly. “You’re excited to see him fight tonight.”

Loki glanced up, then smiled wickedly. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to see him get a little roughed up.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You know not a single person has fought the Grandmaster’s Champion and won, correct?”

Loki shrugged. “I’ve been on the receiving end of his fists plenty of times before. I’ve also seen him defeat extremely powerful beings… Algrim the Kursed and your father, for beginners.”

“Let us hope your faith in his ability to take a hit is well-placed, then.”

Loki looked a little conflicted. You could tell he didn’t want Thor to die, but that he also quite enjoyed the idea of Thor being beaten to a pulp. It was an interesting dichotomy and it made you even more intrigued in the man. He seemed to be full of contradictions.

When he looked up and found you staring he looked away, a flash of embarrassment crossing his features ever so briefly. “Thank you,” he said so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.

You smiled at him, amused. “You’re welcome, Loki.”

His green-grey eyes flicked back to you, hesitation flickering across his face for the briefest of moment before he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours.

The kiss was over almost as quickly as it started and you stared at him in shock for a beat. “What was that for?” you whispered, fingers reaching up to touch your still-tingling lips ever so lightly.

Loki’s usual swagger was back in place, a cocky grin on his lips. It was, however, a little more still than usual. An attempt to hide the nervousness simmering below the surface. “Do I need a reason to kiss a beautiful woman?” he asked with a surprisingly even voice.

You stared at him for a moment longer before leaning forward and sealing your lips over his in another kiss, this one longer and more heated than the first. Your heart thudded in your chest as he kissed back.

When you leaned back, Loki’s eyes were dark and heated, though a sharp edge of distrust glinted just below the surface. “What was that for?” he parroted your words from moments earlier.

You smiled genuinely at him and, with a deep breath, laid all your cards on the table knowing full well it might bite you in the ass. “Do I need a reason to kiss someone I find absolutely enchanting? I like you, Loki, and that is reason enough to want to kiss you.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All hell breaks loose on Sakaar and you and Loki are left trying to pick up the pieces of your plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is habbenings. I’m trying to work through my WIPs one by one.

[Originally posted by notias1](https://tmblr.co/ZxZVUm2eF1a6s)

Loki swept into the guest room you’d been staring in and slammed the door behind him.

“He didn’t listen,” he spat.

“Hello to you, too,” you said dryly from your spot on the couch.

Loki spared you an eye roll before he began pacing in front of you. “He wants to go back to Asgard, but it’s absolute madness. Our sister has assuredly seized control by now. Going back would be to court death,” he seethed.

You tracked his dogged progress back and forth with your eyes. “You didn’t go to see him, did you?” you asked, eyes narrowed.

He froze and glared at you. “What? Of course I did!”

You tilted your head. “In person?”

His face twisted in disgust. “Do you take me for a fool? That place is disgusting.”

You groaned and slumped back onto the couch. “You _are_ a fool.”

He bristled and took a step towards you. “And yet you still thought me capable of tricking the Grandmaster and helping you-”

You stood in a flash and clapped a hand over his mouth. “Careful what you say, Loki. I didn’t find any surveillance equipment, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t any,” you said, quiet and deadly. When it was clear he’d calmed you removed your hand from his mouth and gestured to the couch behind you. “Sit. Please.” He looked mildly mutinous but acquiesced after a beat.

“What are we going to do? He’s unwilling to help,” Loki said in a much more subdued tone.

“Did he say that?” you asked as you crawled on his lap. His arms were around your waist immediately and, as much as you wanted to, you didn’t relax into his arms.

He scowled at the mention of his brother. “All he cares for is returning home.”

You shrugged. “Then all we need to do is ensure his goals align with ours.”

Loki raised a brow. “I can hardly see how that’s possible.”

You grinned wickedly at Loki and rested your forehead against his. “He wants off Sakaar. The Grandmaster doesn’t want that. If he’s as capable as you say he is, his escape would be more than enough of a distraction to make our move.”

Loki stared at you a bit distantly, likely working through the logistics. “You wish to use him.”

“He gets what he wants and we get what we want.”

Loki’s green eyes are unusually tempestuous. “When?”

You studied his face carefully from behind your mask. “Not tonight. He’ll be heavily guarded until his match. Maybe in a few days, when things have calmed down a bit. If he lives, that is.”

Loki’s face darkened. “He won’t wait that long.”

You shrugged and rested your head on his shoulder. “He won’t have a choice.”

* * *

“I have to get off this planet.”

You’d seen Loki cocky, calculating, cunning, and even caring, but up until this exact moment, you’d never seen him absolutely terrified.

He moved to bolt for the door, but you grabbed him before he made it more than two feet and shoved him into the white couch. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” you hissed as you sat down next to him.

He didn’t have time to answer because a second later the Grandmaster paraded into the room, broad grin on his face. He greeted a few others in his private box, but quickly sat down. It was time for the main event.

When the Lord of Thunder (Thor?) spoke, though, you almost wished you’d let Loki leave.

“Hey! Hey, we know each other! He’s a friend from work,” the blond belted from down in the arena.

The Grandmaster turned to look at Loki, but both of you stared straight ahead. Loki cleared his throat conspicuously and you jabbed him in the ribs with your elbow.

Thankfully, the Grandmaster became distracted the moment the fight started. You glanced at Loki out of the corner of your eye, but he too was so focused on the action that he nearly flinched when you hissed, “What the hell was that?”

Loki’s eyes stayed riveted to the action. “I know him.”

You glared at him. “He’s your brother. I’d hope you do.”

Loki shook his head and finally stared at you for more than a second. “The other one.”

You gaped at him, then at Hulk, and then back at him. We’re talking about this the moment we’re alone,” you whispered.

He nodded, but then Thor landed a blow on Hulk that sent the big green man flying and the entire arena went silent.

“What?” the Grandmaster murmured, aghast.

To his credit, Loki was sunk back in his seat, trying to look as unassuming as possible and failing spectacularly.

Apparently you didn’t have to worry about the Grandmaster’s champion being defeated, though, because a moment later Thor was being thrown about like a rag doll.

Except the sight made Loki stand up and screech, “Yes! That’s how it feels!” so loudly the entire room stared at him, including you and the Grandmaster. He seemed to realize he fucked up, though, because he covered the outburst with a half assed, “I’m just a huge fan of the sport.”

The Grandmaster was happy enough, though, that he didn’t question it.

You yanked Loki back down onto the couch and gave him A Look that he valiantly ignored by watching the action.

* * *

The two contenders traded blows back and forth. Eventually the Lord of Thunder got the upper hand. Just as he was about to make a winning blow, however, the Grandmaster activated his control disc and the blond went down like a puppet with the strings cut.

You’d been expecting it, but it still made you grimace as the Hulk leapt into the air and barreled straight for him.

“I hope he’s as tough as you claim,” you whispered to Loki, who was wincing. 

“As do I,” he said faintly.

* * *

_“Sakaar, hear ye. Attention please. I have some bad news. My beloved exalted champion has turned up missing. Take to the streets. Celebrate my champion…”_

You turned your head slowly to stare at Loki, who was staring at the nearest speaker with a dumbstruck expression.

_“It seems that that criminally seductive Lord of Thunder has stolen him away. Take to the streets…”_

You’d stopped listening to the announcement and so had Loki if the look he gave you was anything to go by.

“It seems we’ve underestimated my brother,” he said faintly.

You grabbed his arm and immediately started marching him in the direction of the Grandmaster’s palace. “You need to go talk to the Grandmaster. Do some damage control. My people aren’t in place yet.”

He dug his heels in, bringing both of you to a stop. “You want me to go back in there? With that psychopath? He’ll kill me!”

You spun around and glared at him. “If you don’t go he’ll assuredly send people out to kill you. If you go in good faith and intrigue him in some way, he’ll give you a chance to bring your brother back. He likes you too much to kill you immediately.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at you and fell into step beside you as you continued your march towards the palace. “And where will you be?”

“Getting my people in order. We’re making our move today.”

He sent you a worried look. “You’re sure?”

You huffed out a sigh and glared at nothing in particular. “No, but we won’t get another chance like this again.”

The palace came into view and you stuttered to a halt and reached out for his hand, once more tugging him to a stop. Before he could even ask why you’d stopped him, you unhooked your mask and slipped if off your face. You pulled him in with your free hand and kissed him, hard and fierce. He recovered from the surprise in a heartbeat and kissed back with just as much passion. Your blood pounded in your veins but you reluctantly pulled away and slipped your mask back on.

“Don’t die, Loki,” you said sternly, fingertips ghosting over his cheek.

He looked confused and unused to such displays of affection, so he simply nodded and, with a last lingering look, turned and jogged away towards the palace.

You watched him until he disappeared into the crowd then pulled out your communication device and immediately rang Halu.

He picked up within seconds. “What’s up, boss? I’m hearing a lot of chatter coming from the capital. Something wrong?”

“Get the crew ready and over here now, Halu. It’s time.”

Halu’s normally affable exterior hardened and he nodded. “You got it, boss.”

* * *

He was late. He was supposed to check in a half hour ago, but there was only radio silence on his end.

Sakaar was in an uproar. It seemed like someone had powered down the control disc mainframe, and now the Grandmaster’s slaves were running the town. You’d already had to kill more than a few that knew you by sight and reputation; cretins eager to get back at you for being a successful scrapper.

It was by complete accident, then, that you happened upon Loki while waiting for Halu to arrive in the hangar.

He was convulsing violently on the ground and, even though you couldn’t see it, you knew he was being zapped by a control disc.

“Where is it?” you asked him, hoping he’d be able to hear you over the pain.

His eyes swiveled frantically to a spot on the other side of himself and you spotted it a few seconds later. You ran over to it and quickly pressed the button on top.

Immediately Loki let out a sigh of relief, reached behind himself, grabbed the control disk, and threw it over the walkway where it fell a long way to the bottom of the hangar.

“What the hell happened?” you asked as you rushed over to him, checking him over for any injuries. It was a show of how tired he was that he didn’t shoo you away.

“I’m afraid my brother got the drop on me,” he hissed as he rubbed at the tender spot on his back.

You raised an eyebrow at that and opened your mouth to give him shit, but, before you could, the elevator door opened and out stepped a small group of former contenders.

You and Loki froze and stared at them apprehensively.

“Hey, man. Elf Lady. We’re about to jump on that ginormous spaceship. You wanna come?” the Kronan in front asked.

You gave him a disgusted look. “What? Of course we don-” Your words died in your throat at the look on Loki’s face. “You want to go,” you whispered, seeing the truth on his face no matter how neutral he tried to keep his expression. If the Kronan cared about you unceremoniously ignoring him, he gave no sign as you turned your back on them and clasped Loki’s shoulders firmly. “Why? You would be great here. We’re so close, Loki. _This_ close to making this whole planet ours.”

His eyes were distant. “You mean yours.”

The icyness of his stare stunned you momentarily and your arms dropped from his shoulders. “No, Loki. Ours.”

His face finally showed some tiny hint of emotion, but it was anger. “Save your prettied words for more gullible fools.”

You stumbled backwards as though struck. He seemed viscerally satisfied by that reaction, which hurt you almost as much as the coldness had in the first place.

“Will you not let yourself be happy for once?” you whispered, shoulder sagging. “Can you not believe that I care for you? Do you think me incapable of such a thing?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You’ve known me for barely a month.”

You gazed sadly at him from behind your mask. “And yet I care more for you than I have for any living creature in memory.”

“You lie,” he whispered.

Anything you could have said in return, though, was drowned out by the sound of dozens of engines as Halu and your crew flew into the hangar.

You looked away from the ships to Loki, who was staring at you. He seemed ready to bolt at the drop of a hat.

“You won’t change your mind, will you? You’re going after your brother?” you asked him over the hum of the engines.

Those wicked green eyes stayed trained on your face as he nodded.

You sighed heavily. “Shit…” you whispered so quietly you knew he couldn’t hear.

“Boss!”

Halu and your generals were exiting their ships and walking over, looking confused and a bit bloodthirsty. Things outside must have really picked up. 

You turned away from the group of former contenders and Loki, and sauntered forward a few steps. Halu and the generals stopped, looking to you expectantly.

“Halu.”

“Yes, Boss?”

You slowly took your jacket off and your crew froze, confused. You hadn’t changed after taking over Gharui’s and the jacket you had on was a symbol of your authority; a mantle of power. To wear the jacket was to be the leader of your gang.

It dangled from your hand as you held it out between you and Halu and you took off the bottom of your mask with your other hand.

“Hear my words! From this day onward, Halu Savari shall be the leader of the South Sakaar Scrapper Gang! May he lead you as I have- to glory and wealth- and may you follow him as faithfully as he has followed me for thousands of years! Victory to the South Sakaar Scrappers!”

Your generals echoed your final words, but Halu stood frozen, hands tucked firmly at his sides.

“Boss?” he whispered, taken aback.

“No, Halu. That’s you… if you’ll just take the damn jacket,” you said quietly, smirking at the taller man.

Slowly, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening, Halu reached out and took the jacket from your outstretched hand. It was with a bittersweet smile that you watched him shrug the jacket on. It was a tight fit because of how much larger he was, but it had been big on you to begin with.

You clapped him on the shoulder and gave him one last smile. “Good luck, Halu. Kick the Grandmaster’s ass so I have a nice place to come visit, alright?”

Halu grinned widely, having realized that had really happened and he wasn’t on a bad trip of jast or something. “You got it… (Y/N).”

You turned from each other at the same moment. You could hear him giving directions to your- no, his- scrappers, but you only had eyes for one man.

Loki was staring at you with wide, distrusting eyes. “I don’t understand.”

You shrugged your shoulders, missing the familiar weight of your jacket but feeling oddly… free. “I’m coming with you.”

“You’re coming with me? To save my brother and what remains of Asgard from our evil sister, Hela?” he asked, disbelief clear in his voice.

You shrugged. “Is that what we’re doing? Do we have a plan?”

He gaped at you. “You can’t be serious. You just gave up… _everything_ … to come on a suicide mission with me?”

You grinned wickedly at him. “It’s only a suicide mission if we die.”

Loki groaned and ran a hand down his face. “You sound like my brother.”

You laughed at that. “Well, if he got the better of _you_ , I can’t say I take offense to that.”

Loki stared at you for a moment or two longer; long enough for you stop chuckling to yourself. “You’re serious.”

Your smile turned to something a little more vulnerable and you closed the distance between you. “About you? Always.” Before he had a chance to respond you stood on your toes and sealed your lips together in a kiss. It was brief but tender and when you pulled back he was staring at you with a spark of wonder his eyes. “I see you, Loki. Just you. And you will always be more than enough for me.”

His smile was tiny but his eyes shone bright with emotion and you smiled at the sight.

That was until a loud noise snapped you out of the moment.

The Kronan was blowing his nose into what seemed like an entire tablecloth, sand falling down from its folds. If you hadn’t seen him do it you would have assumed the sound came from a ship, as loud as it was.

“That was just… beautiful,” the Kronan said tearfully.

Loki groaned and you smiled as his head _thunk_ ed heavily onto your shoulder. “They’re our ride, aren’t they?” you asked knowingly as you reached down and twined your fingers with his.

“I’m afraid so,” he said despairingly.

You smiled and kissed his temple. “Then we best be going. Destiny’s calling.”

He lifted his head up and stared down at you with such naked affection that your heart stopped for a second or two. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

* * *

The Statesman was larger than any craft you were used to piloting. It was, also, much slower than the ship Thor, Valkyrie, and the human Loki had called “Banner” escaped on.

“Ha, that’s the wreckage of Topaz’s ship,” you said as you flew over the surface of Sakaar on the way to the Devil’s Anus. “Maybe that nasty bitch finally kicked the bucket.”

Loki (who was sitting in the copilot’s seat) smiled at the thought. “Now that’s a nice thought, isn’t it?”

You grinned widely, even as the Devil’s Anus loomed closer and closer. “It really is.”

Loki shot you an amused look before he started preparing the ship for travel through the Anus. “Let’s go be big damn heroes, shall we?”

You smirked at him and urged the ship forward. “First time for everything.”

Loki’s smile turned more considering as he made the final preparations. “Yes, I suppose there is.”


End file.
